


Into the Lion's Den

by bees_stories



Series: The New Team Torchwood Adventures [4]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Case File, Drama, M/M, rubbish science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 11:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bees_stories/pseuds/bees_stories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All's well that ends well? Not quite. Team Torchwood's milk run to help shutter Torchwood Two runs into a series of complications as Archie escapes and leaves a series of puzzles  behind to muddy his trail. </p><p>A/N: Not as much a sequel to <em> Glory Days</em> as a continuation. This won't make much sense unless you read that one first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

***

"Jack? What is it? Is something the matter?"

Ianto rubbed grit from his eyes, the result of yet another short night's sleep, and frowned as Jack came into better focus. He was clothed, but not completely put together. Dark braces hung loose, waiting to be pulled into their proper place over a deep blue shirt that was still open and offered a stark contrast to the white vest beneath. He ran a comb through shower- dampened hair and checked his teeth in the mirror before replying. "Felicity called from the airport. They're on their way." 

"Right." Ianto yawned and stretched. He flipped back the blankets, but got no further. Jack put his hands on his shoulders and held him in place. 

"There's nothing we can't handle for a couple of hours. Why don't you have a lie in? Loading the removal van can wait." 

More sleep sounded like a lovely idea, but the sun streaming in the window, and the long list of things ticking away in his head, vetoed the notion. "I'm okay." The room was cool enough to raise goose flesh. Ianto reached for his dressing gown. "I'll just get a quick shower and shave and meet you downstairs, yeah?" 

Jack gave him an affectionate smile. "I'll put the coffee on. You look like you need it." 

Ianto scowled back, but without malice. "Not all of us can roll out of bed looking like we're ready for a photo shoot, Captain." 

The smile turned into a bawdy leer and Jack lunged, pinning Ianto under him. "Depends on what photo shoot we're talking about. Right now you could be cover model for _Rough and Ready_." 

" _Rough and Ready_? Is that a real magazine?" 

Ianto was conscious of how furred his tongue felt, and how sour his breath must have been, but Jack didn't seem to mind at all as he mercilessly teased him the rest of the way awake with a very thorough kiss.

He amended his list of morning ablutions to include a _cold_ shower as they broke apart and Jack ran a thumb over Ianto's stubble-roughened jawline. "It could be. If you'd let me take your picture more often. Private press. Subscription list of one?" 

Ianto had played model for Jack, once. It had been fun, after he conquered his natural reticence. But the knowledge that no storage place was truly secure had kept him from repeating the experience. "Incorrigible." 

Jack dipped forward again and licked a stripe from Ianto's collar bone to his nipple. He latched on and teased until a wanton moan escaped Ianto's lips. "Edible," he countered before starting to drift lower.

As much as he wished otherwise, they didn't have the time. Jack had been up long enough to shower and dress, which meant Felicity and Andy were well on their way to arriving. 

Ianto flexed his hips, not quite unseating Jack, but jostling him enough to make him stop what he was doing. "Cock tease. I may have to punish you for that." 

Jack chortled as he straightened. He made a show of adjusting the bulge in his trousers. "Now _that_ is the sort of talk that makes a man look forward to the end of the work day." He pushed off the mattress and pulled his braces over his shoulders before buttoning his shirt. "Come on. Let's get the rest of this move wrapped up, and then we can really get down to business." 

There didn't really seem to be much of a response to that other than to slap Jack's arse as he walked out of the room. The surprised yelp was a small reward that sent Ianto's brain spinning in delightfully bawdy directions as he washed and dressed.

***

Teasing Ianto until he promised to respond with punishment lifted Jack's spirits immeasurably. He whistled as he put water on to boil for coffee and raided the fridge for the bag of sandwiches Ianto had purchased as insurance against whatever Archie provided for breakfast.

A glance at the contents of the fridge showed Ianto's instincts weren't too far from wrong. There was a new, unopened packet of cereal that looked like it was more suited for feeding lab animals, and an extra bottle of milk next to the carefully covered pan of stew, but not much else. He set the bag on the counter for the others to help themselves, and took a bite out of a bacon buttie as the kettle began to steam.

Jack reflected on dour thoughts as he munched his sandwich. He hadn't been happy about the governors' decision to close the Glasgow operation. He couldn't seem to get through to them that their focus should have been on rebuilding Torchwood across the board, not further diminishing its resources as they yielded more and more of its mission to UNIT. But Jack had been forced to concede that Archie did need to be retired, especially after the incident with the sneakascope.

The governors had left the specific conditions of Archie's retirement to Jack's discretion. If he had behaved, Archie could have kept his memories, bitter as they were, and enjoyed the benefits of Torchwood's generous pension scheme. He would still enjoy those benefits, but at an additional cost. For the rest of his days, no matter how thorough the memory modification, and how careful the Flat Holm staff filled in the blanks, he would always have the vague sensation that there was something missing from his life. 

Jack spooned in coffee, added the water, and then took another bite of his sandwich. He chewed and swallowed hastily as he glanced at his watch. It was time to face Archie. He felt like he owed him that much before Felicity took him in charge. 

The walk down the corridor to Archie's suite brought pensive musings about his own missing memories. Jack knew he would likely never recover those memories, and perhaps there were good reasons why he never should. But it didn't stop him from thinking about the loss. 

He tapped on the door before unlocking it and letting himself in. It was a courtesy, nothing more, and probably one that would go unnoticed. Tranquillisers had eased Archie's grief and helped him find sleep after the humiliating revelation of his late night experiments. Chances were he'd be barely cogent when Felicity gave him the initial dose of retcon for the trip to Cardiff.

A frown creased his features as Jack crossed through the little parlour to the bedroom. There were signs that things had been disturbed around the desk and the shelf behind it. He put the observation temporarily to the side, and opened the bedroom door. 

The bed, though slept in, was empty. Jack's frown deepened as he looked into the bathroom and found it empty as well. The wardrobe door was open. Archie's clothes from the previous night – pyjamas and a dressing gown – had been hastily discarded and dropped into a heap on the floor. Empty hangers lay on top, a sign that Archie had dressed in a hurry. 

"Damn." 

A check of the window's security sensor indicated it was active and there had been no breach. Automatically, Jack reached for his headset and found it missing. He swore again. Despite the events of the previous evening he wasn't treating the closure of Torchwood Two like a proper mission. That error was going to cost him. Jack relied on the next best tool he had. He ran out into the corridor and bellowed, "Ianto!" 

Ianto came running out of the kitchen, sandwich in hand. He was followed by Dev and Mark, both looked groggy from not nearly enough sleep. 

"What is it?" Ianto said. "What's the matter?" 

"Archie's gone." 

"Gone?" Dev's expression was incredulous. "You mean he's done a runner?"

Jack glanced around the empty room. "So it would seem."

The deep, hollow sound of a gong reverberated through the building. It faded and repeated a few seconds later. 

"That must be Andy and Felicity." He dug into his trouser pocket and handed a slip of paper to Ianto. "Front door code. And yes," he said before anybody could ask. "I changed it last night. Archie didn't just let himself out." 

"Right." Ianto pressed Jack's mobile and Bluetooth into his palm in return for the code before moving swiftly away. Dev began a sweep of the room, looking for clues to how Archie had performed his locked door escape. 

"CCTV?" Mark asked. 

Jack shook his head as he fitted his earpiece. "There isn't any in the residential wing. Check the external feeds and those in the labs. See if maybe we can pick up his trail that way."

Mark nodded sharply and trotted out of the room. Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He watched Dev trying to put herself into Archie's head. She went to the bed, sat down on it for a few seconds, and then got unsteadily to her feet. "I've been tranquillised," she said softly. "I feel like the dog's dinner, but I know I've got to ignore that because it's important I get out." 

She took a series of staggering steps to the bathroom and leaned over the sink. "Sir!" 

Dev pointed. Sure enough, there was water splashed over the counter along with the hastily discarded towel he'd noticed earlier, but not really assigned any meaning to.

"Do you reckon he does like we do, and keeps things on hand to perk himself up?" 

Jack reached over her and opened the medicine cabinet. It contained the usual things a man of advancing years might keep, with a few interesting additions. "Amyl nitrate capsules. That would put a spring in his step." 

Dev gave him an excited nod in reply. "So he wakes up. Gets his head clear. Or as clear as he can, but he's still stuck. How'd he get out?" 

"You're doing fine so far, Dev. Keep following his trail." 

"Right. Assuming I could escape, people would notice me in my dressing gown. So, wardrobe next." Dev brushed past him out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. She made a beeline for the open wardrobe, examining the discarded nightwear before doing a fast inspection of the rest of Archie's clothes. "Sir! Look here. Things have been moved around a bit, but wouldn't you say there was room for a small case?" 

Jack had five inches advantage on Dev, even without the stacked soles of his boots, so he didn't have to crane his head, or stand on the tips of his toes, as she was doing to see the place where the rubber feet of a travel bag had left a mark as they'd been hauled hastily over the surface of the wooden shelf. "Archie had an escape plan. The plot thickens." 

" _Boss,"_ Andy said through his earpiece. _"You've got more trouble."_

"What kind?" 

_"The tyres of your car have been cut."_ There was a pause. "Ianto says the cars in the garage have been messed about, so there's no using them, either." 

Jack had to admire the old bird's moxie. Andy had said 'tyres' plural. Archie had taken steps to give himself a good head start. "Right. Check the outbuildings for signs he might have gone to ground on the premises, then head on back. Oh, and Andy? Call the rental place and get them to deliver a new car." 

_"Already done."_ Ianto sounded annoyed. Under the circumstances, Jack didn't blame him a bit.

***

Though there was a bank of monitor screens in Archie's office, the true security hub and observation station was on the basement level near the mostly abandoned science labs and other work areas. Mark took a few minutes to familiarise himself with the control system before setting to work.

The external coverage gave basic views of the facility. There was a camera at the gate. Others kept watch over the car park and reception area. Several more ringed the area near the garage and maintenance shed, monitoring the side yards and the expanse of grounds that ended at the river bank. The public spaces were covered, but the private areas – the residential floors and common areas – were not. 

The internal security system was somewhat more comprehensive. Once it was set, all external interfaces – doors, windows, even the chimney – were rigged with motion sensors. Anything that broke the contact would set off an alarm. The alarm could only be deactivated with a code, and that code had been changed by Jack the night before. 

Unless... 

Mark hooked up his laptop, grateful not for the first time since he'd arrived that he'd brought it along, and used the powerful software he'd been given to interface directly with the mainframe subsystem that monitored the security network. Nearly all security systems had a default override code embedded in them for use in case the business or home owner was unable to shut down the alarm. 

A few keystrokes got him into the system log. Mark sighed. The last eight hours showed only explainable events – Jack changing the code. Jack setting the code after they finally called it a night. Ianto using the new code to let Andy and Felicity into the complex. There was nothing that could be attributed to Archie. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the unhelpful time stamps and thinking without over-focusing on any one aspect of the problem.

The tyres on the car had been punctured. Mark pulled up the CCTV of the car park again and scanned the footage in front of the building. Ianto had gone out on a late night food run, so the car couldn't have been messed with before eleven.

He punched that data point into the system and began to scan through. He watched as Ianto arrived with bags of shopping in hand. Jack met him at the door. Mark raised an eyebrow as the pair engaged in a pantomime of affectionate banter before Ianto filled the captain's arms with carrier bags and deftly manoeuvred around him into the building.

The camera had a decent view of the car. Mark scanned forward, watching the shadows shift as night gave way to morning and the fog rolled in. The position of the car shifted in the frame. Mark paused the playback and scrolled backwards. He replayed it again, frame by frame, noting the time stamps. That morning at nine fifteen and thirty seconds, the car showed evidence of vandalism. He captured the footage from ten minutes on either side of the incident and transferred it to his computer, feeding it into a visual enhancement program. 

He watched again. No one approached the car. There were no mysterious shapes. No shadows. The only change was the profile of the Ford altering as the tyres on the right and then the left were systematically deflated. 

Mark sighed. The boss wasn't going to like this.

***

"Could he have another one of those whatsits?" Dev mimed the time manipulator Archie had turned over the night before. "Could he have got out of the room that way?"

They were crowded into Archie's sitting room. It was the nexus of their mystery and as such, as good a place as any to compare notes and theories. 

Both Jack and Mark shook their heads. 

"None of the sensors have triggered," Mark explained. "If there had been any time shifts, an alarm would have sounded." He leaned in long enough to offer a consoling shoulder nudge before rising to his feet. "But that doesn't mean that maybe he didn't have some other bit of tech squirrelled away." 

"What are you suggesting?" Jack looked at Mark with interest. Archie couldn't just vanish into thin air. They had to be missing something right in front of them. His team was all showing signs of sleep deprivation. Even Felicity who generally looked put together under the most trying of situations, seemed unfocused as she frowned at her hands and tried to take in nonsensical facts of the briefing.

"I haven't been able to find any indication the car park camera was tampered with. The time stamps during the vandalism are consistent with light conditions and so forth. Plus we're talking about a man who is fighting the effects of sedation. He's not going to be at his sharpest. Even if he had the means, there's just not enough time to build false footage digitally erasing himself from the scene."

"So?" Jack prompted.

Mark shook his head, frustrated. "I don't know, light bending clothing? Something that would make the camera blind to him?" 

"An invisibility cloak?" Andy gave his colleague an incredulous stare. "Mate, are you feeling all right?" 

"Don't discount the idea," Jack said. "There are already paints and some prototype technology in this century that can do that." 

"However he did it," Ianto cut in, "he made his way from the car park to the boat landing. That old launch is missing. Nothing fancy done with the camera. It was shot out very neatly." 

"All right. We can worry about the how he did it later." Jack rubbed his hand over his tired eyes and through his fringe. "Archie has at least a couple of hours head start. Get his name and aliases into the system. Put a flag on his passports. Start a facial recognition trace in case he's using an identity we don't know about. Cover the airport, the train stations, all the usual exits, in addition to the Glasgow city CCTV network. Check with the river authorities and see if they know anything about the boat."

Andy looked up from his notepad. "Should we liaise with the locals?" 

Jack hesitated. "Ianto, go through his phone records and correspondence. See if Archie has any sort of ongoing relationship with the police." 

"About that, sir," Dev said hesitantly. "If we hack their system and put in an APB, should we consider him armed and dangerous?" 

"Despite what you saw last night, Archie Mac Tavish is a Torchwood operative with thirty years of experience." Jack looked at each of his team in turn. "He's got all the skills you do, and he's had occasion to test them. Don't sell him short." 

Mark's mobile bleeped. He frowned as he pulled it from his pocket and examined the display. "We've got another complication." 

Of course they did, Jack thought to himself. Whenever it rained, it seemed to pour buckets. "What is it?" 

"The Rift predictor is showing a rising trend," Mark replied. "Right now there's a sixty percent chance of a moderate event occurring within the next seventy-two hours." 

Jack pulled his phone from his pocket. It began to ring as if on cue. "Right. We'll just have to get things stabilised here before things break loose at home. Ianto, once everything is in the system, get back to packing this place down. We've still got that job to handle." He waited long enough to get an affirmative nod and then answered the call. "Gwen. Yeah, we got the news. Hang tight. I'm working on a plan."

***

"It's a locked room mystery." Andy winced as he settled behind a lab bench across from Felicity. "I bloody hate locked room mysteries. You get baffled by all the bullshit and fail to notice there's a bloody great open window standing there the whole time."

She typed the last of her access codes into her laptop and slid it across the table. "So I take it, you're not a fan of the genre?" 

Andy frowned at the laptop's keyboard before beginning to tap at the keys. "If I have to watch a crime program, I like the straight procedurals. At least those I can pick apart for laughs." He looked at the list of known aliases they had for Archie and began to type them into the police database. He paused after the first and looked over at Felicity. "How are you holding up?" 

She shrugged, and winced, and then gave him a half-hearted smile. "The shoulder is sore. Those claw marks in my back are probably going to need a couple of weeks to heal properly, but I'm feeling a damn sight better than Constable Andrews probably is, poor sod." 

"He'll make it though, right?" Andy had known Vince Andrews for several years. He was a good, solid, dependable sort. Not brilliant, but the type you wanted at your back if you were stuck in a bar brawl. Now Andrews was hanging by a thread in hospital, the result of not waiting for backup. Damn aliens.

Felicity rested her head carefully against a half-packed carton. "We got there in time. Andrews saved that couple, and we saved him. It was a good result." She stifled a yawn. "I could really use some sleep though. Late nights and early flights are not the best mix." 

"I wondered why you looked so done in." Jack stood in the doorway watching them. "Are you sure you're all right?" 

"I'm fine." Felicity sat up again and brushed her hand through her closely cropped hair. She seemed to be making an effort to will the fatigue away, but it wasn't really working. 

Jack walked around behind her. Felicity bit back a cry as he poked her in the shoulder blade. Andy winced in sympathy. "Don't play macho with me, Doctor. We don't have time for it. Go upstairs, have Dev take a look at your back, and then get some sleep."

"Sir." 

Jack offered his hand in a courtly gesture. It seemed quite a turnabout, especially after he had so callously forced Felicity to admit the extent of her injuries. Andy did his best to suppress his irritation, and his protective feelings. He hid his glower by concentrating on the computer in front of him. 

"Come on, I'll show you where you can sleep." 

An incident report involving a boat that matched the description of the missing launch popped up onto the screen. "Boss, I may have something." 

"Sorry, Felicity. Give me a minute." Jack crossed to look over Andy's shoulder. "What is it?" 

"A boat was abandoned down river. They called the bomb squad in because there's a bunch of electronics wired to it they couldn't identify." 

"Right. That sounds like our cue." Jack punched his shoulder playfully. It was meant to be a gesture of confidence, but Felicity wasn't the only one sore from their late night altercation. Andy swallowed a pain-filled oath and rose as Jack spoke into his headset, calling for Dev to take over monitoring duty, and letting the others know they were on the move.

***

The morning fog hadn't lifted. Rather it had settled comfortably, turning the Torchwood Two compound, and the surrounding area, a uniform shade of grey. Ianto tried not to shiver as he stuffed most of the cash from his wallet into the mechanic's hand. "That should cover the extra repair work."

It was a simple job, refitting the ignition wires to get the two car motor pool back into service, and one he should have done himself, but Ianto didn't have time. There was too much to do, and as usual not enough time to do it.

Now they had a plain white Ford Transit van and an ageing green Citroen at their disposal. A good thing, because Jack was about to take the replacement car, and there was no telling how long he would be gone dealing with the recovered motor launch and the Scottish police. 

A meaty fist closed over the cash before it disappeared into the pocket of a pristine, pale grey pair of coveralls. "No trouble at all, sir. Such a shame you had t' deal with vandals." He regarded the security fence for a moment before returning his attention to Ianto. "Amazing what some people will do t' get their kicks." 

Jack was coming, striding out of the office with the tails of his greatcoat billowing behind him. He was followed closely by Mark and Andy. Mark had a level three containment box, and Andy carried a tool case. All three – even Mark, who normally seemed cheerful under even the most trying of circumstance – looked grim. 

"Yeah," Ianto replied, his tone absent. "But I suppose it takes all sorts. If you'll excuse me?"

The mechanic ambled away and clambered into his breakdown lorry. Jack had his hand out. Ianto tossed the car keys and watched as they were snatched out of the air.

Jack got behind the wheel and popped the boot as Andy got into the passenger side and Mark loaded the cases, closing the lid with a thump to let the others know everything was secure. They were away before the mechanic finished his call to dispatch, a trail of dust following in their wake. 

Ianto advanced on Mark. "Why aren't you going with them?" 

Mark held up his hands in a warding gesture. "The boss said he could handle whatever Archie had done to the boat. And given the look on his face, I didn't see a point in disagreeing." He gave Ianto a puzzled frown. "He also said if anything went wrong, just worry about confiscating the big pieces." His frown deepened. "I didn't know Jack went in for gallows' humour."

"You'd be surprised." The thought of recovering pieces of Jack from the Clyde was appalling. The idea of his body trying to rebuild itself after a bomb blast didn't bear contemplation. No wonder he had roared away in such a hurry. Jack didn't like to do goodbyes, even temporary ones. 

Mark shivered against the cold and started back towards the house, forcing Ianto to follow. "Anyway, he said I was needed here. I need to finish the tech inventory so I can help you with the loading." 

Ianto sighed and reordered the list of priorities again. "Right. You get going in the lab. Dev and I'll start shifting the boxes we packed last night."

***

"So then Mark figured that Archie was using this little gadget, no bigger than the fountain pens the Captain likes, to travel back in time and spy on the people that used to work here." Dev peeled back the bandage over Felicity's shoulder blade. Two angry claw marks had been closed with a neat line of surgical staples. Deep purple bruises fanned outward, covering most of the medic's upper back. "Oh, that's lovely, that is. I'm amazed you can move your arm at all."

"I don't really have much choice. Besides – "

"You should see the other guy," Dev chorused. "I supposed there's that." She pressed gently around the periphery of the wound, looking for signs of infection. "It seems to be healing clean enough. The Captain's right. What you need is a fresh dressing, and a bit of a kip." 

She worked quickly, deftly applying antibacterial ointment and new gauze pads. "Can I get you anything else?" 

Felicity shook her head. "I'm fine." She reached for her rucksack and withdrew a pair of vials, regarding them with disdain before popping the caps and tapping pills into her palm. "You said Jack drugged Archie before putting him to bed?" 

Dev nodded as she pulled off her gloves and started to gather up the used bandages and other medical supplies. "Sedative. Poor old sod was pretty distraught when we finally caught up with him. I think he'd cracked from loneliness." She reached for her earpiece. "Yes, Ianto? Right. Down in a minute." With one last look around the room to make sure she hadn't missed anything, Dev trotted out of the room and closed the door behind her.

***

The constable that scrutinised his identification looked like he had swallowed something unpleasant and wasn't sure if it was going to stay down. He ordered Jack to stay where he was while he conferred on the radio with someone higher up the food chain.

"To think, that used to be me," Andy said. He looked at the cordon of constables hunched and huddled against a persistent drizzle, and shuddered in sympathy. 

"Miss it?" Jack considered just driving through. He was in a car. The constables guarding the scene were on foot. It wasn't really an issue of who would give way first. But then he considered the overall headache, and the fact that smoothing things over would probably cost even more time, and settled for bouncing the toe of his boot impatiently against the floorboard instead. 

"Most of the time, no. And then there's a night like last night and I'm not so sure." 

"What happened?" Jack caught sight of the constable who'd examined his special branch warrant card. He was pushing his way back through the throng of his brethren officers, looking even more unhappy than when he'd gone to consult with his superior. 

"Felicity and I went out on a unknown alien disturbance call. When we got to the scene, all we found was a caustic slime trail. After looking around for a bit, we decided to call it a waste of time. On our way back, we heard the 999 shout – officer needed assistance." Andy shook his head.

"It was a mess. Two civilians. One giant horned slug with feet. And a couple of weevils. All going at it hammer and tongs. We waded into the mess and nearly had it under control, when one of the weevils decided it was going to make one last go for the slug. Felicity got in the middle. She took down the slug, but – " 

Jack rolled down his window as he spotted the sour-faced constable and got a face full of bracingly cold air. "Sounds like quite an evening." 

"We just got done at A&E and then you lot called," Andy concluded. "Looks like we're back on again." 

Jack flashed a warm smile at the constable and got a glower in return. "Any problem?" 

The constable shook his head. "Park over there. You need to have a word with Inspector Duff. You can find her at the command tent." He handed Jack back his credentials. "Don't keep her waiting, she hasnae time as it is." 

Jack got out of the car. He glanced over at Andy. "You heard the man. Go park and bring our stuff." 

"You got it, boss."

Jack was conscious of the attention he was generating as he threaded his way through the crowd of milling police and emergency services officers. He knew part of it was the coat, but he didn't mind. It was cold and clammy on the banks of the Clyde. He dug his hands deeper into his pockets, warming them, as his escort pointed at a tall, serious looking woman in her early forties. 

"That's the Inspector." 

Jack turned to thank him, but the constable was gone. He shrugged and stepped past someone with the slightly nervous air of a newly minted DC and stuck out his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness. Torchwood. That's Special Branch," he added just in case the warrant card wasn't enough of an explanation. 

"DCI Grace Duff. What can I do for you, Captain?" 

He liked her on the spot. Though the incident scene was just short of chaotic, there was a pool of calm radiating from DCI Duff, and those in her presence seemed to benefit just from being around her.

"That boat and a man we're interested in are connected. I'd like to take a look." 

Duff shook her head. "I'd like to oblige you, Captain, but no one goes on board until the bomb squad clears it. There's a box attached to the steering mechanism. It appears to have some kind of a timer on it." 

"What's their E.T.A.?" He asked for form's sake, not that he had any intention of wasting valuable time waiting around. 

"At least an half an hour." Her composure cracked for just a few seconds. She looked pensively at the launch bobbing on the river and back at Jack. "I hope we have that long." 

"It's not a problem." Jack gave her a confident smile. "As it happens, I have some small experience in this area. And, I've got my own equipment." 

Andy finally pushed his way through the crowd. He dropped the two cases at Jack's feet. 

"My associate, Andy Davidson. This is DCI Duff." 

"Ma'am." He hesitated for a second, as if he was going to touch his fingertips to a cap he no longer wore, and then stuck out his hand instead.

"What you're asking, Captain, it's highly irregular, and completely against procedure." 

"Yeah, I know." Jack tipped his head toward the tool boxes and Andy picked them up again. "But I'm racing the clock here, and that boat could have important information on it we need. I promise, nothing will blow back on you." He grimaced. "Sorry, poor choice of words. This is my call. Come on, Andy." 

The boat was old, and not particularly well maintained. The paint was peeling in places, and the bright work was anything but. It seemed a disconsolate sight as it bobbed against the tide. Jack exposed the face of his wrist band and aimed it at the craft. "There's some unusual energy readings, but I'm not picking up anything radioactive. I'm going to go on board to take a closer look. Hand me the toolbox, will you?"

"Just in case it is a bomb," Andy said as he passed over the case. "Do you remember if it's the blue wire or the red you're supposed to cut first." 

Jack took the tools and gave Andy a grin. "Inappropriate humour. You're fitting right in." He waded into the river, gritting his teeth at the cold water seeping over the tops of his boots. No doubt Ianto would have something to say about that later. He hoped there was a later as he climbed up the little metal ladder and heaved himself over the side. 

As promised, attached to the steering column was a black box – complete with blinking number counter – and a cylindrical object. Also black. Jack ran the sensor over the contraption, aware nearly everyone on shore had stopped what they were doing and was now staring at him as he worked. 

"No explosive," Jack muttered as he knelt down and examined Archie's handiwork. The craft had been automated. He thought he recognised a collision avoidance circuit cannibalised from a 36th century personal flitter, and a few bits from the navigation computer as well. Archie might not be a whiz at temporal physics, but he had been a fair engineer in his day and his skills hadn't got completely rusty with time. "What are you playing at, Archie?" 

Jack had a sinking suspicion that once again they'd been led down a garden path. He killed the timer circuit. Everyone tended to calm down when the numbers weren't counting down to zero. Including him. When he was sure there wasn't a secondary system ticking away, he unhooked enough of the robotics to give the launch her autonomy. 

He picked up the mass of wires and circuits and dumped it into the water. "Andy, box that up will you?" He glanced across the crowd. The real bomb squad had shown up. Their leader had a familiar, bent out of shape look Jack had come to know and enjoy. "It's clear," he yelled for their benefit before getting onto the comm and checking in with Ianto. 

"Any sign of Archie?" Jack asked tersely. He knew that Ianto was going to be angry with him for his abrupt departure, and the message he'd left with Mark, but it was one more item on a long list of situations that couldn't be helped.

He didn't really want to get blown up. He didn't want to see Ianto's face as he contemplated what it would be like if he did get blown up. QED, avoid the unpleasant conversation, but let Ianto know what he needed to do just in case the worst happened. Simple. At least until the part where he came home in one piece. 

_"Jack."_ The heartfelt rendering of his name made the dire situation momentarily better. Ianto got ahold of himself. There was the audible sound of throat clearing, and then he began to report. "The CCTV search of the major routes out of Glasgow is complete. There were a handful of possible matches that turned out to be negatives. None of his cards have been used, and his passport hasn't been scanned." 

"Yeah, and the boat was a red herring," Jack added. "Other than connecting the autopilot and starting the engine, there's no sign Archie was ever here."

_"What's his game?"_ Ianto asked. 

"I don't know. I'm going to send Andy back with the launch and then have a few more words with the police. I'll see you in a little while." 

Jack took one more look around the engine and along the waterline just in case he'd missed any unwelcome surprises. Once he was sure the craft was safe, he waved Andy on board and then went to have his final word with Inspector Duff.

To be concluded...


	2. Chapter 2

***

Ferrying the launch back in the cold and damp had been a miserable experience. Andy wished for more than a hasty cup of coffee to alleviate the bone-numbing chill, but he'd been pressed into immediate service upon his return disassembling and packing an elaborate piece of glass apparatus. He tucked the last section of tubing into a box just as Felicity entered the lab.

"What are you doing up?" They'd made a pact on their first day to look out for one another. Included in the deal, as far as Andy was concerned, was the right to play mother hen when Felicity refused to take care of herself properly.

"I couldn't sleep." She looked around the room. "Maybe it's a side effect of the pain medication. I kept getting the feeling I was being watched." 

Ianto put the box of equipment he was on the verge of carrying out to the van onto the table instead. "It's not the ghosts?" he asked with an expression of dismay.

Mark brought up the link on his laptop to the temporal monitors. "No. All the readings are stable." He shrugged. "It's an old building and frankly, a little creepy. My gran would say it's got negative energy, and needs a cleansing. But she's into holistic white magic."

Dev dusted her hands and looked around the nearly empty room. It had been stripped. Patches of lighter coloured paint marked where file cases and large pieces of equipment once stood. Other than a few cardboard boxes and equipment containers still awaiting the last bits and pieces, they were nearly finished packing everything of interest away. "Whatever the reason, I'll be glad to be shot of it." She looked over Mark's shoulder at the steady green line on the display. "What about the Rift? What's it up to?" 

One set of graphs disappeared and was replaced by another. Mark studied the readout for a few moments, interpreting the trend lines. "Holding steady at eighty-two percent. I'd say there's a good chance something is going to happen within the next thirty to thirty-six hours." 

"Then you better finish up here and catch the next available flight back to Cardiff." Jack stood in the doorway surveying his team's work. "Take some time for yourselves, but leave your phones on. Except for you, Felicity. You're offline until your shoulder heals. No discussion. Dev, you carry the medkit until she gets back. Any questions?"

"What about Archie and his ghosts?" From Ianto's expression it seemed he had a good idea already. 

Jack pushed off the door frame, his body language casual. He glanced over Mark's shoulder at the readout and his lips flattened for a moment before he replied.

"We can't do much on the Archie front as long as he's gone to ground. But the minute he makes a move, the civil authorities will detain him for us."

Jack didn't seem pleased about yielding the matter to the locals, but there seemed little choice. "As for the ghosts, you and I will stay behind and verify the time bubbles have completely dissipated. Mark, I'll need you to do the final calibrations on the test boxes before you go." 

"Right, boss." There wasn't much time to do all the things that needed doing and get ready to leave, too. Mark shot a pleading look in Dev's direction.

She nodded and said, "I'll take care of the packing. Felicity, I'll bring down your stuff, so you don't have to bother your shoulder. Andy, I can get your things while I'm at it. Why don't you put the kettle on?" 

"We leave in thirty minutes," Jack said crisply before adding, "Ianto, a word."

Mark scooped up a handful of tools and piled them onto his laptop. Five boxes, and thirty minutes to test them. It would be close thing, but he was pretty sure he could manage.

***

"Christ, Jack," Ianto said as soon as they were alone. "I know you love to play the hero, but what if that had been a bomb?" 

Ianto's eyes were stormy blue, and the set of his mouth betrayed the fact he was both relieved that Jack was safe, and angry that he'd put himself at risk in the first place.

It was one of those times where words just wouldn't do the job. Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and kissed him for all he was worth. 

At first, Ianto fought back, his anger momentarily getting the better of him. Then a strong hand was at the back of Jack's head, cradling it in the way Ianto knew he liked best, and another clutched his shoulder, and he was the one being kissed rather than the other way around. 

"I'm so sorry." Jack leaned his forehead against Ianto's when they finally broke apart. "But there really didn't seem to be a choice." 

"You could have waited for the bomb squad," Ianto said. But his resigned tone betrayed the fact he knew they couldn't risk alien technology getting into civilian hands, or waste time on police procedure. 

There was little point in arguing over what was done and they both knew it. It was time to move on. Jack reverted to Captain mode. "I want you to go upstairs and get some sleep. We're going to be up most of the night, and if something pops, I need you fresh. Understood?" 

He received a nod that was as resigned as Ianto's words had been. "I take it our weekend in Glasgow is off?" 

"How'd you guess?" 

Ianto shrugged. "Because there are only two other people on our team who are qualified to drive that removal van, and both of them are getting on a plane in an hour."

Jack added another failure to his tally for the day. Between losing Archie and the several ways he'd disappointed Ianto, he was accumulating quite a total. "All I can offer is a scenic tour of the M6." 

"You're lucky I'm a man of simple tastes." Ianto tangled their fingers for a moment before his face fell into professional lines and he dropped his hand to his side. "Can I get you anything before I go up?" 

Jack shook his head. "Stop worrying about me and get some rest. I'll join you as soon as I get back."

***

He closed his eyes and tried to drift off. But sleep, as it had for the previous hour, continued to elude Jack. Bits and pieces of things his team had said over the course of the day floated like flotsam through the stream of his thoughts. Something Andy had remarked about locked door mysteries tumbled repeatedly to the surface. Where was the bloody great open window they were missing? 

He put that thought aside to consider the other things weighing on his peace of mind. There was a bollocking from the Board of Governors to look forward to. Most of the time his relationship with the nominal oversight committee was tenuous at best and and fraught at its worst. Allowing Archie to escape custody after discovering his unauthorised excursions into the past was going to raise uncomfortable questions, all of which would be directed at him. 

Torchwood Two had cells. Why hadn't Jack used them? Why had he left Archie on his own without a guard? 

Hindsight. Oh, how he hated hindsight. All the things he could have done, should have done, differently. Little things that in retrospect seemed crucial. Jack sighed into his pillow. Beating himself up wasn't going to help him sleep. He needed a happier train of thought.

Ianto's bulk curled against his chest was a solid reassurance. He shifted it closer and breathed in the scent of his sleeping lover's hair. Waking him wasn't an option, he needed Ianto to get his rest. But Jack was perfectly capable of using his imagination. 

Ianto's hand drifted to Jack's thigh, his dreams seemed to be taking him in the same sort of direction Jack's thoughts were trying to go. He smiled as Ianto's fingers trailed inward, tickling the inside of his leg. Jack pressed back against the pillows and shifted ever so slightly, hoping Ianto's hand would keep moving. 

The situation reminded him of the previous night, and Jack found his tentative hold on a better frame of mind shattered. Ianto had complained of feeling watched. He reported that Felicity had mentioned she felt the same way. Neither event was tied to the time bubbles. 

Locked rooms. Feelings of being watched. Jack carefully dislodged Ianto and eased to the opposite side of the mattress. He undid the cover of his wrist strap and pointed it at the wall. He hadn't detected any unusual energy readings the last time he'd checked, but that had been a cursory scan meant to humour Ianto. He checked again, more carefully this time. A low level energy signature – barely there but potentially significant all the same – registered. Jack raised an eyebrow and got out of bed.

He scanned each wall in turn, top to bottom and side to side. The usual household wiring. The security system on the window. The mirror above the bureau where he'd combed his hair after showering. Jack looked at himself. He raised his wrist band and watched his reflection react as the energy readings fluctuated.

A tug at the mirror's frame revealed it was fixed firmly to the wall. He looked around the room for something to use as a pry bar and finding nothing apparent, he weighed the heft of his discarded boot. A backwards glance suggested caution might be in order. Jack pulled the bedding over Ianto's head. He swung the boot, turning his face away against an anticipated shower of glass. 

Nothing happened. Jack tried a second time, putting more of his arm into the swing. Once again the boot bounced harmlessly against the mirror. 

"Jack?" Ianto pushed the bedding off his face and sat up, awake, but not terribly alert. 

He recalled a ghost from the previous evening who had walked through a wall, and all the random details fell into place. Andy was right. They had been so busy obsessing over the locked door, they'd missed out on the window.

Jack shoved his legs into his trousers, dressing hastily. Ianto followed suit, reaching for his gun as Jack shoved his Webley into his pocket. Bare feet made the unpleasant discovery that his boots still hadn't dried out completely after his plunge into the Clyde. He ignored the residual sogginess and ran down the hallway, Ianto at his heels. 

The door to Archie's room stood open. The books on the shelves, and the papers that had filled the desk drawers, had been emptied into a stack of moving boxes that stood against the desk. 

"Good. This makes things easier," Jack said as he raised his arm and panned the closest wall with his wrist strap. 

"What is it? Jack! What have you found?" 

"We were looking at the wrong door." A smile broke over Jack's face. "Oh, Archie, you crafty old badger you. Gone to ground right here in the building." He ran one hand along the empty bookshelf, probing delicately at the trim boards. "There's got to be a switch ... or a lever ... something, here somewhere!" 

"Right." Ianto joined in the search. "Wait a minute." He ran his fingers lightly over the wood once, then once more. "I think I've found something." He looked up seeking Jack's permission, and when he received it pressed more firmly against the spot. The shelf receded and revealed a tunnel. "We need a torch." He went to one of the boxes and rummaged through until he found a pair of penlights. 

"It'll do," Jack said. He pulled his revolver and took one of the torches from Ianto. "Cover the outside of the building. Between us, we'll box him in." 

Ianto nodded once, the plea to be careful unsaid but there in his eyes, before sprinting out of the room. Jack took a deep breath, counting off the seconds before Ianto was out of the building. 

When two minutes had elapsed and Ianto's soft report of, "I'm in the car park," came through his Bluetooth, Jack plunged into the tunnel with only a pencil thin beam of light to guide his way.

***

Nightfall had only made the damp worse. Ianto shivered as the cold air hit his skin, but otherwise ignored the chill. He had no idea where Archie's tunnels might lead. He swept the area, considering possibilities. Archie was an old man, fit, but not without his share of infirmities. When he had laid his false trail he had been under the influence of tranquillisers and yet, he had managed to slash the tyres in the car park and hook up the autopilot to the motor launch two hundred yards from the back of the building before going to ground again. 

He discounted the pulled ignition wires of the vehicles in the garage. That damage could have been done at any time. He wondered if he should do the same about the boat, but he was certain that it hadn't been wired when Jack and Archie had done their official walk through. Although there could have been opportunities later, after they'd started packing. 

He was over-thinking the situation and knew it. The autopilot was wired so that it could be attached just by plugging in a couple of connections. Getting it ready and casting off could be done in less than two minutes. The tyres could be slashed in the same amount of time or less. Another couple of minutes to get from the car park to the boat landing and back again. Archie could have pulled all of his tricks and gone back to ground in a quarter of an hour. 

A tunnel exit beyond the house would reduce the risk of accidentally setting off the peripheral alarm system. Ianto zeroed in on the potting shed situated slightly behind the main building and opposite the garage. 

The door opened smoothly on its hinges. He hadn't noticed that earlier, but for a building of its age and apparent disuse, that was enough to send alarm bells ringing. A musty odour of old grass clippings and fertiliser filled his nostrils as Ianto stepped inside the shed and ran the torch beam over the interior. 

His hand hesitated on the light switch. Using it could trigger an alarm. Then again, he might have done already by opening the door. Given the option, he'd rather have a plain view of what he was searching for instead of stumbling around in the dark. Ianto pocketed the torch and flipped on the light. 

It wasn't a large building, but it was adequate to the task of holding a mower and the gardening tools necessary for keeping the hedges trimmed and the modest display of flowers free from weeds. A potting table lined one wall.

Ianto ignored the neat stacks of bagged fertiliser and other commonplace items and looked for the something that was out of place. The walls seemed no smaller on the inside than the exterior suggested, so he doubted the entrance, if there was one, was above ground. He pulled the torch out again and shone it along the seams of the floor. 

Rubber squeaked against stone just behind him. Ianto spun around and caught sight of something dull grey, like a substantial shadow. Sharp pain blossomed behind his left ear.

Ianto's last thought was Mark was right about invisible clothing as blackness overtook him.

***

Jack ran along the twists and turns of the tunnel. He had to admire Archie's ingenuity, the secret interior of Torchwood Two was a regular rabbit warren. A narrow corridor ran upward toward the residential wing. He mounted the treads two at a time, mindful of tripwires or other traps, but found the way unimpeded. 

There was a door at the end of the corridor. Jack sprinted forward. He held his revolver close to his cheek as he pressed against the door frame, listening. He took a deep breath, cocked the Webley's trigger, and yanked the door open, fanning the room as he sought his target.

Archie wasn't there.

***

Ianto was aware of a number of things as he struggled painfully back to consciousness. The first was the dull ache that pervaded his skull, followed by an echoing ringing noise that added to the pain. The sharp sting of a heavy palm struck against his cheek. He raised his head, trying to work the world back into focus and noticed a tightness across his mouth and around his wrists that could only mean they had been bound with gaffer's tape. 

"Come on, laddie, time's a wastin'," a voice said in a thick Glaswegian accent as Ianto was struck again. 

He tried to resist as he was lifted roughly to his feet. He stopped cold when the snout of his own pistol was pressed against his temple. "I wouldnae advise it, son. I may no have your experience, but at this range, I doubt I need it. Now, let's go have a wee chat with Jack, shall we?"

A deep sense of humiliation pervaded his pain. He had been overtaken by an old man, in a plainly lit room, where there were very few places his assailant could have hidden. Ianto decided if he survived the night he'd request permanent duty in the Hub. The excitement of weevil hunting with Jack not withstanding, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to be assigned to the field rota again.

Archie poked him with the gun barrel. "Down yon stairs, and no funny business." He racked the slide to make his point. 

Ianto walked, his feet unsteady as his head spun. He lurched sideways. Archie caught his arm in an iron grip and then shoved him down to his knees. He wondered how he was going to negotiate the stairs with his hands bound, but Archie solved that problem for him as well. He kicked Ianto's legs out in front of him, and then sent him over the side on his arse. 

It was one more indignity, but less risky than falling. Ianto bumped and slipped down the hidden staircase like a child. Funny, he remembered it being a considerably less painful experience when he was five. Now his tail bone throbbed in time with his skull, and he was sure there were bruises that would make sitting uncomfortable for at least a week. 

He heard Archie's soft tread on the steps above him. Ianto turned his head cautiously. The gun was still pointed at him and there was no way to pull any kind of stunt to change the situation. He adopted a submissive posture at the foot of the stairs and waited for further instructions.

***

Jack did a cursory toss of Archie's bolt hole, examining the accumulation of alien tech, personal effects, and diaries with enough thoroughness to determine that his quarry hadn't skipped. With a frown pulling at his lips, he tapped his headset. "Ianto?" 

The frown deepened as the circuit remained stubbornly closed. "Ianto. Report." Still nothing. Jack got a bad feeling. He hesitated, considering likely scenarios. None of them improved his mood. 

There was a noise in the corridor. Jack's gaze darted around the room. It offered very little cover. There didn't seem to be any option available other than toughing the situation out. He leaned against the corner of a small writing desk and kept his gun close to his side. 

The door opened. Jack's heart froze between beats as Archie goaded Ianto forward with a pistol between his shoulder blades. There was a red mark on Ianto's left cheek, and a trickle of drying blood down the side of his neck. His eyes brimmed with apologies. 

"When you introduced young Ianto here as your 'right hand', I didnae realise you meant it literally." 

Jack ignored the salacious jibe. He was going to have to keep his cool if he wanted to keep control of the situation. "Archie, it doesn't have to be like this." 

"Still, I suppose that's no bad thing," Archie mused, ignoring Jack's opening gambit. "You wouldn't risk your sweetie doing anything daft, would you?" 

Jack shook his head. "Leave him out of this. This is between you and me." 

"Och, if only it were that simple." 

"It _is_ that simple," Jack said, his voice low and tense. "This isn't the old days, Archie. We don't do summary executions for policy violations any more." 

Despite his predicament, Ianto raised his eyebrows. Jack would have laughed at the ridiculousness of his expression if the situation hadn't been so serious.

"Then what do you call execution of self?" Archie replied dryly. He plucked a pill vial out of his pocket and dangled it. Jack recognised it as the high dose retcon he'd instructed Felicity to bring with her from Cardiff. "Isn't that what you had lined up for me after my little indiscretion?" 

Archie had him there. While the governors had finally banned capital punishment in all but the most extreme scenarios, they still wholeheartedly endorsed the use of retcon. 

"Sorry, Jack. But waking up a fortnight hence in Ealing, thinking I've spent the last thirty years as a chartered accountant, seems like no good thing to me." 

"What's the matter with Ealing? I know some very nice people that live there."

Ianto rolled his eyes at him again and Jack was forced to agree that maybe that wasn't the sharpest comeback. But he was having a hard time thinking when his eyes kept drifting to the gun that targeted the back of Ianto's neck. 

Archie gave him a look that suggested Jack was both thick and untutored. "I'm a Scotsman. Born and raised. I've lived my entire life no ten miles from this very spot. And you'd no risk letting me stay here. No when there's none to keep an eye out to make sure the retcon's still doing its work." 

"So tell me what I should do, Archie," Jack said. "Should I turn a blind eye to the fact you nearly tore the fabric of time wide open using a device you didn't understand?" 

Archie shrugged. "You might. You might at that. You took the wee gadget away. What harm can come of it now?" He tapped his pocket. "Maybe you should take these. Then you'd no have anything to fret over." 

Ianto's eyes suddenly went very wide. He tipped his head upward, urging Jack to follow his gaze. Archie noticed his hostage's distress and seemed to visibly pale. "It's no possible!" 

Jack turned his head and detected the same thickening of the air he'd seen right before the ghostly letter writer had interrupted his quality time with Ianto. This time, the spectre was that of a man, and the entire room in which he worked seemed to come with him into the bubble. 

Through the walls of the house, the distant sound of alarms began to sound. Jack's wrist band pinged, adding its attention signal to the call for action.

"What have you done, Archie?" 

The gun in Archie's hand wavered, its aim dropping from Ianto's neck to the small of his back. Sensing Archie's loss of focus, Ianto made his move, throwing himself backwards into the other man. The gun discharged with a crack that made Jack's blood freeze as both men tumbled to the ground. 

"Ianto!" Jack darted forward, completely unmindful of his own safety. He aimed a sharp blow at Archie's temple, before pulling Ianto's body clear and into his arms. 

Ianto's eyes were frightened. Knowing he could hardly make matters worse, Jack tore the tape over his mouth free before checking him for more serious injuries. 

"Bastard!" Ianto clapped his bound hands against his mouth before pointing at his leg. Blood seeped through the grey wool of Ianto's flannel trousers, staining it even darker. "Shot me."

"Hang on." Jack's glance darted around the room. There was a ceremonial dirk, twin to the one that pieced Archie's copy of the Torchwood charter, on the desk. He used it to free Ianto's hands, and then tore his trouser leg open. Two neat holes pierced the calf muscle. "It could be worse. We need to get some pressure on it and stop the bleeding." 

Ianto winced sharply as he gingerly flexed his leg and pressed the ruined fabric of his trousers against his skin. He looked up at Jack and rasped, "Ghosts." 

The phantom room, and its occupant, was gaining more substance by the second. Jack swore softly. "Damn it, Archie. What have you done?" 

Archie moaned in reply. He sat up and shook his head to clear it. Jack had the beginning of an idea and he didn't like it. "Archie, is this where you did all of your time jumping?" 

Jack didn't wait for an answer. He changed the setting and pointed his wrist strap at the other man, doing his best not to notice how hard his hands were trembling. Everything was saturated with tachyon energy, including Archie. "We've got to get out of here." As carefully as he could manage, Jack pulled Ianto to his feet. "Come on, Archie! Move!" He shoved the other man towards the door. 

The ghosts were everywhere. 

"What are we going to do?" Ianto said harshly. 

"This way!" Archie darted in front and fell into point position. Jack took most of Ianto's weight and half carried him through the maze of hidden passageways. They came out in an airing cupboard on the main floor. Seconds later, they were through the front door and out in the grounds, well clear of the cluster of buildings. Ianto's grip on Jack's braces slackened and he went limp.

"You take care of the lad." Archie said.

The bollocking he'd anticipated from the governors seemed like a welcome thing as Jack pressed his hands against Ianto's wounded leg, trying to staunch the bleeding. He tore off his shirt and braces and used them to make an impromptu pressure bandage. "Come on, Ianto, stay with me. Don't you dare leave me now." Ianto groaned and began to shiver. 

Though it cost him to do so, Jack ripped his attention away from Ianto and looked around the compound for Archie. The fog had broken, and the night was clear and beautiful. The ghostly groundskeepers who tended the lawn seemed almost as if they belonged. Jack went cold to his bones as he spotted Archie stepping over the threshold of Torchwood Two. "No! Archie, don't do it!" 

Archie took one last look up at the sky before stepping back inside. 

Jack was torn with indecision. Should he give chase after Archie or stay at Ianto's side? One of the gardeners moved closer, making the decision for him. Jack gathered Ianto into his arms and pulled him clear of a ghostly mower. 

There was a brilliant flash of light and then the universe seemed to dim around them. Jack wondered if he finally he found a death that would stick as he lost consciousness, falling into a heap on top of Ianto.

***

"Jack?" 

The voice seemed to come from far away. Jack perked up his ears and tried to remember why its sound was so welcome. He remembered it belonged to someone he enjoyed teasing. Someone who made his days easier, and his nights less lonely. It belonged to someone he loved. 

"Ianto?" 

"We're not dead?" Ianto sound very unsure on the matter. Jack forced his eyes open and raised his head. Torchwood Two still stood. As did the waste ground on either side of it, and Glasgow's Clyde River redevelopment scheme beyond that. 

"I don't think so." He sat up. Things swam a bit, but that was only a temporary setback. Jack took a couple of slow, deep breaths and tried to reconstruct what had happened.

Time. It wasn't supposed to run backwards. Eventually some cultures would develop a workaround, and then they'd figure out that it wasn't a good idea to mess with the natural order of things. But what was done couldn't be undone. The genie would be out of the bottle, and regulatory bodies like the Time Agency would be born to help mitigate the inevitable damage. 

Archie had crossed the time barrier, sending himself backwards into the past he had inadvertently summoned. What he had done was dangerous, ill considered, and likely to have grave consequences. He'd probably also saved all their lives.

"My leg hurts." 

Jack looked down. Ianto's face was clammy, and in the moonlight, ghastly pale. He had no idea how long they'd lain unconscious while Ianto's blood seeped into the grass. "We need to get you to a hospital." 

Fortunately, the keys were in his trouser pocket. Jack staggered a little as he scooped Ianto into his arms and helped him into the back seat of the car. He remembered the tool kit in the boot and retrieved it, putting it carefully under Ianto's injured leg. 

"Thank God for GPS," Jack said as he turned the engine over and requested directions. The computerised female voice was a steadying presence as it guided him through the changing face of Glasgow all the way to the ambulance bay of the hospital. 

"Does this mean I don't have to drive back to Cardiff?" Ianto asked as help descended and he was wheeled away. 

"Shirker," Jack replied fondly before slumping against a chair and burying his head in his hands. He wasn't the least bit surprised when DCI Duff appeared at his elbow bearing a cup of tea and asking if she might have a wee chat.

***

"Gwen." Ianto stirred in his sleep at the sound of his voice. Jack set down the Torchwood Two diary from 1956, rose from the desk, and crept as quietly from the room as he could manage. "No, we've just about wrapped things up. Ianto should be okay to travel in a couple of days. You?"

"A shower of … did you say daisies over Penarth? Really. Not alien … just daisies. Huh. Made the papers? Freak cyclone over a flower field in Nice. Creative. Whose idea was that?... Give Andy a gold star. Yeah, I'm sure he would appreciate an extra shift off instead, but that's not how things work."

Gwen chatted on, relaying the news of home. Jack listened and nodded absently from time to time, eager to return to Ianto. He felt a warm wash of pride as he realised how well his team was handling things in his absence. Jack rang off and picked up his book intending to curl up on the bed, read a bit more, and then take a nap. Sickroom duties aside, he was as good as on holiday.

A passage in the diary caught his attention and he read it twice, not quite believing his eyes. Jack marked the entry to show to Ianto when he woke.

_17 July, 1956. A man appeared in the administrative wing, nearly startling Harry Johnson (clerk: grade 2) out of his skin. The man could not tell us his name, and he carried no identification. (Although his accent and idiom seems to be that of a local resident.) His clothing is a curiosity. Preliminary analysis indicate fibres of non-contemporaneous origin. Blood and tissue samples have been taken. Per procedure, a report has been sent to London. Further enquiries are pending._

End


End file.
